fic: Scrabble Rousers | Jared/Misha, AU | NC-17
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~5k
Summary: Jared endeavors to give Professor Collins his heart’s desire.
Notes: Written for obstinatrix for the jaredmisha Mishaleckipalooza exchange (huzzah!), from the prompt: Jared and Misha play Scrabble. STRIP SCRABBLE. Hope you enjoy! Many thanks to the mods for the extension. Eternal thanks to my wonderful beta, greybhan311 for the help and the quick turn-around.
In the four months since he'd met Professor Misha Collins at the International Campus-Adjacent Co-Ed Scrabble Rousers' Weekly Bacchanalia and Dinner Club, TM Sebastian Roche, Jared had determined three important facts.
1) The man was too uptight for his own good.
2) He hated to lose, hated it beyond reason, and therefore hated Jared for his superior Scrabble game.
3) The good professor wanted Jared in the worst possible way, but was fairly unlikely to admit it.
All that was about to change. Okay, maybe not that second thing. Misha might never truly come to terms with Jared's mad Scrabble skills. Jared figured he could live with that so long as it didn’t interfere with his plans, which consisted of getting Misha naked and sweaty and…well, that was about it. Whatever came next, they’d have to improvise.
He'd been assured by Sebastian that the professor was a ton of fun, with a quick wit and a filthy sense of humor underneath those pressed slacks and crisp white shirts. The quick wit, Jared could believe. He’d seen it for himself. Filthy? That required further investigation.
Jared hadn't thought much of Misha when they first met. He was cute enough - great lips, gorgeous eyes. And Jared didn't take offense when Misha underestimated his game, challenging every word as if Jared couldn’t possibly be that well-versed in the English language, though it did make that first victory especially sweet. Misha spluttered and bemoaned his loss, and Jared smiled and thought about putting those lips to better use.
So, no, it wasn't lust at first sight, but by the end of their second match Jared was already imagining different ways get a rise, so to speak, out of Professor Collins.
He paused outside the door of Chad's off-campus apartment to take inventory of his wardrobe: jeans, threadbare flannel shirt, flip-flops, underwear (new, white, CK boxer briefs, form-fitting, but not obscene - classy). Jared was generous and impatient, and he’d selected his attire accordingly. It was the group's Third Annual Strip Scrabble Extravaganza and Collins was in for the treat of his life.
"Dude, you're late," Chad said when he opened the door.
Jared sidestepped him to peer into the small apartment. And there he was. Professor Stuffy Pants himself, talking to Sebastian and double-dipping his chips. Most of their regular members skipped out on strip Scrabble night, so it was a small group, as it had been the previous two years before Misha joined the club. Jared was impressed Seb had managed to convince him to show up at all.
As expected, Chad's mission to recruit more women for this year’s Strip Scrabble Extravaganza was not such a success. Kristen was once again the sole representative of the fairer sex. She sat on top of the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, nursing a beer and watching the small group with mild curiosity. Probably the second best player in their Scrabble league, next to Jared of course, Kristen wasn't in much danger of being stripped down to nothing. Even so, she was rocking the layered look hardcore.
Not that Jared spared much thought for her wardrobe. His gaze was pretty much trained on Misha, but he wasn't about to go over there yet. Let Misha throw him sly little I'm-not-looking-at-you glances from a safe distance for now.
He'd suspect Misha of layering as well, but the poor thing always dressed like he was on his way to an interview. Tonight’s outfit included a vest, but even that wasn’t unusual. Chad was explaining the rules of Strip Scrabble to him while Misha looked around nervously.
"Okay," Chad explained. "Here's how it goes. We're splitting up into one-on-one games. Kristen will sit out the first one. At the end of each round, the player with the lowest score for that round takes off an article of clothing."
Chad mimed a disturbingly twitchy striptease while Misha closed his eyes, possibly in prayer for deliverance.
"If a player challenges a word and wins, he, or she," Chad said and pointed to Kristen, "can put an article of clothing back on. Losers are out, winners advance. You get re-dressed for each new match-up. Got it?"
"Listen, I'm not sure-" Misha started.
"Of course you are," Seb interrupted. "It's just a game among friends, right?"
Misha glanced at Jared but his gaze skittered away in a hurry. Jared smiled. Oh, they would be more than friends all right.
"Don't smirk," Kristen said. "It's unbecoming."
"I was smiling."
Kristen side-eyed him and took a long draw off her beer. "What's your big plan here, anyway, genius?" She asked. "Get Misha out of his clothes so you can see him naked up close and personal, along with everybody else in the room?"
"No." Jared grabbed her beer and took a drink. "The idea is for him to get me naked."
"Because you're so hot he won’t be able to resist?"
"You’re only skeptical because you haven't seen me in anything less than jeans and a t-shirt."
"So tonight's my lucky night, too?" She asked, reclaiming her beer.
"The show's free for all."
"But only the professor gets a happy ending?"
"Now you're catching on."
"All right, let's do this," Misha said to the room at large, clearly mustering all his will just to get through it. How the hell had Seb managed to get him here, Jared wondered, not for the first time. Whatever his method, Jared wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was just glad Seb was on his side.
They drew names to determine their opponents: Chad v. Jared, Misha v. Sebastian. Kristen watched from the sidelines and cat-called when appropriate. As usual, Jared beat Chad easily. Misha and Seb were more evenly matched, but Sebastian was so on board the Jared-seducing-Misha train, he practically owned stock in Grand Central Railway. He probably didn't throw the game so Misha could advance to the next round, but it wasn’t out of the question.
However it happened, Sebastian and Chad were happy losers with no desire to re-dress. Kristen made a point of putting on her shades to protect her eyes from the collective glare of their pale torsos. "I've got two words for you boys," she declared. "Tanning bed."
In keeping with the informal tone of the affair, she determined which of the winners to challenge with a spin of the bottle. When it pointed to Misha, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they settled in for their game.
If there was one person in the room besides Jared who could win against Misha a good fifty percent of the time, it was Kristen. She also happened to be the most averse to losing her own clothes and probably the least likely to throw it for Jared's sake. He bore holes in the back of her head with his laser-eyes while she and Misha played.
It was a tense game and Misha struggled mightily, but he won, shirt and pants still securely in place, with ASTRIDE. Kristen was able to preserve her bra, panties, and the second chemise she’d layered on, much to Chad's chagrin. Then finally, blessedly, the real game was on.
"All right," Chad announced. "Just one pairing left, with the championship on the line - Jared versus Misha. Place your bets and let's get this show on the road."
Jared exchanged a fist-bump with Sebastian on his way to the table while Misha donned his socks, shoes, and vest. He’d spent the evening avoiding Jared as much as possible, as if he could stall the inevitable if he refused to acknowledge it. So when they sat across from each other and Misha finally granted Jared his full attention, it felt like a victory.
Jared winked and bumped his foot against Misha's under the table.
"Don't worry, Professor, I'll make this as painless as possible."
"Just play, Padalecki," Misha replied, his voice strained.
"Lighten up," Jared told him. "You're fighting for your underwear, not your life."
"Play," Misha repeated. Jared might have a fetish for that voice.
The Scrabble gods were smiling down upon him, and Jared couldn't bite back a grin when he saw his tiles. He licked his lips and opened the game with PORN.
Sebastian, resplendent in a leopard print thong, slapped Jared on the back. "An auspicious beginning."
Misha narrowed his eyes. There was no bluster, no blushing. He pressed his foot against Jared's and built on the O with COCK.
"Now we have a game," Chad hooted.
"Porn cock," Jared said as he slid back in his chair and spread his legs wide. "That's about right."
Misha's face took on a pained expression. "Don't be disgusting."
Jared licked his lips suggestively. He couldn't help himself. Something about Misha gave his inner horny teenager life. Kristen groaned and headed to the kitchen for more beer.
COCK became COCKY, and Misha earned the shirt off Jared's back when he hit a triple word score with EYE. Jared made sure to undo the buttons slowly. He dropped his gaze and adopted a bashful expression when he pushed the shirt off and dropped it to the floor, revealing his well-moisturized and manscaped chest.
"Shouldn't you remove your shoes first?" Misha asked, his expression tight and his color high.
"Is that a rule?" Jared asked.
"Nope," Chad said.
Kristen returned from the kitchen and looked Jared over in a way Misha probably wanted to but didn't dare.
"Not bad, Padalecki," she said.
"Told ya," he said as he flexed his biceps for her.
Misha made a choked noise and looked away.
"Problem, Professor Collins?" Jared asked. He meant it to sound playful, but it came out as a challenge, almost confrontational. Misha's eyes flashed - maybe in irritation, but Jared thought it might be more like challenge accepted.
Misha lost his shoes on EYELET. Jared couldn't think of anything crass or suggestive to say about that. When he took some time to decide between TITS and LITHE, Misha ran a socked foot up Jared's leg. Jared pursed his lips to hide a surprised grin. Misha’s expression was neutral.
LITHE would give him more points. Jared played TITS and lost his flip-flops when Misha played ASS.
Jared shook his head and played LASS for a triple word score. Misha lost his socks on that one and moved his bare toes up Jared's ankle to slide them under the cuff of his jeans. Jared adjusted himself and tried to think of a faster, better way to lose this fucking game.
By the time they reset and Misha lost his vest, his tie, his crisp button-up shirt, and his belt in quick succession, Jared could feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck, the warmth that stole over his own face. Chad and Kristen got bored and started a raucous game of beer pong while Sebastian provided his own brand of color commentary between lengthy breaks to post half-naked pictures of himself on Twitter.
It was Misha's turn and he looked at the board for a good thirty seconds before gazing up at Jared. "What's going on here?" He asked.
"Scrabble?"
"No, really."
There was an undeniable challenge in his tone and in his gaze and Jared answered in kind. He leaned forward to look Misha in the eye when he spoke, low and soft, just between them. "I want to get you naked. You can pretend you didn’t know that already, I don’t care. But if I have to go first, in front of a room full of people," Jared told him. "Then that's what I'll do."
Misha nodded. "Fair enough."
He looked down at his tiles and played FEZ, a move that at long last cost Jared his pants.
When Jared slipped out of his jeans, Misha didn't bother to look away. Jared ran his thumbs under the band of his underwear like he was testing the elastic before sitting back down on the hard metal of the foldout chair.
He had a few different choices on the board, but it was time to get this show on the road. And that was how Misha won on a technicality. JIZZ, it turned out, was not a real word, at least not as far as the good people at Scrabble are concerned.
Jared was well aware of that before he played it, of course. So, Misha could attribute his win to FEZ, Jared did not play JAZZ as he could have, and Professor Collins got to put his belt back on while staring intently at his heart’s desire: one shirtless, pantsless Jared Padalecki. Jared flexed and swallowed a laugh when Misha pushed himself up from the table with a huff. He was so damn cute, with his snark and his eyes and his stuffed up smarter-than-thou attitude.
Jared headed to the kitchen for a beer and a much-deserved high-five from Sebastian. When he returned to the living room, Misha was nowhere to be found. Jared looked around with a sense of alarm. No way did he just throw a game of Scrabble to have Misha disappear the minute it ended.
"Don't worry," Kristen said from the spot she'd reclaimed on the bar. "He didn't leave."
"Where is he?"
"I love a man with a one-track mind," Sebastian said.
Kristen nodded toward the hallway. "He's powdering his nose."
Jared set down his drink and back-walked away from the group and toward the small bathroom at the end of the hall. "Wish me luck."
"Luck," Sebastian said.
Chad groaned. "Dude! Don't do it on my bed."
"Nobody likes a cock-blocker," Kristen told him."You can change the sheets after they leave."
"Let me know if you need anything, will you?" Sebastian called. "Like a third."
Jared beamed. "You'll be the first person I ask, Seb."
The lock on Chad’s bathroom door had been broken for as long as Jared could remember and if that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was. He turned the knob and slipped into the room without knocking, like some kind of awesome cat burglar, or maybe a vampire stealing into the bedroom of a virtuous heroine.
Misha was leaning over the sink, still shirtless, hands planted on the countertop. He seemed to be having an intense conversation with his reflection in the mirror. Whatever he was saying (Jared didn't catch much, but it may have involved the phrase "so not worth it for that cocky, infuriating, asshole") trailed off when he realized Jared was in the room.
"Excuse me?"
"No excuse necessary, man," Jared assured him.
"I mean, excuse you, the bathroom is taken. Leave."
"Nah."
"Nah?"
"You don't really want me to leave."
"Leave means leave," Misha growled.
He was precious, like a tiger cub trying to be fierce but only managing adorable.
"Stay means stay," Jared replied. He stepped behind Misha to settle his hands on his waist, letting their heat soak into Misha's pale skin. He'd been told his hands were a real turn-on, all big and warm.
"I didn't say stay." Misha spoke through a clenched jaw, his voice whisper-soft; easier to say leave than to mean it.
This was ridiculous. Clearly, Misha wanted it, but Jared figured he should get the all-in before going all in. So he leaned down and leaned close, exhaled a breath against Misha's neck.
"If you really want to go," he said, "just walk out the door. No harm, no foul."
"I was here first," Misha pointed out. "You go."
The problem with Misha was that he was stubborn. The tent in his pants told Jared he wanted to stay, but he wasn't ready to admit it. Jared dipped his knees and rubbed his cheek against Misha's neck, inhaled the citrusy-cologne scent of him, let his lips skim the spot behind Misha's ear, but he didn't follow-through, unwilling to do more until Misha gave the green light.
Misha tensed, and pulled in closer to the counter's edge to put whatever small distance he could between them.
"Stop." Misha's voice, all strained and pleading, was hot as fuck, but Jared could take no for an answer. He may be a bit forward by some standards, but his Daddy raised him right.
When he pulled himself to his full height and stepped back, said, "All right, if you insist," Misha made a sudden turn, got right up in his face and sort of - grunted.
"Now, you decide to back off?" Misha asked. "Now? Idiot."
He pulled Jared down, pulled him in, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other curling around his neck, and kissed him hard. Close-mouthed and rough, no room to maneuver; Jared was roped in tight, with no way to open to it, lick in hot and wet like he wanted. His cock saluted and he wrapped his arms around Misha for a closer embrace. Just first base and they were already skin to skin. Strip Scrabble was the best thing ever.
As far as hard, dry, thin-lipped kisses went, this was in his top five. Misha made this little noise, a frustrated, jagged moan from the back of his throat, and ran one hand down Jared's back to his ass. Okay, top two.
Misha pulled away, pressed another kiss to his lips, fast and easy, didn't step back or walk away. Pleased by the turn in events, Jared moved in closer and rested his hands on the counter, arms on either side of Misha. He leaned in for more, but Misha placed a hand to his chest, his fingers curling in just a little, to hold him back. Jared flexed his pecs to give him a thrill.
"Not here," Misha said.
Jared took in their surroundings - smallish bathroom, pink tile, shower curtains with a goldfish pattern, toothbrushes on the counter top.
"What's wrong with here?" He asked.
Misha cocked his head, gave him that very specific you're a specimen in a jar look.
"It's a bathroom."
"It's clean."
Of course, Jared intended to take this show to the bedroom, but it was amusing to let Misha believe that he planned to bend him over the sink or, God forbid, the toilet, and go at it like some kind of animal. The man had the strangest ideas.
"Bedroom," Misha said.
Jared played magnanimous. "If you insist."
He dropped his hand to Misha's ass and pulled him in while he walked him toward the master bedroom. Misha left his hand where it was on Jared's chest and brought his other arm up around his neck as they shuffle-walked to the door.
Misha surged up and kissed him again, slow and soft this time; wetter, better. It didn't help with the walking process, but they made it into the bedroom, almost without incident.
Jared bumped his shoulder against the door jamb as they waltzed through. "Ouch."
"You're the least graceful human being I think I've ever met," Misha breathed against his mouth.
Jared took the opportunity to slip him some tongue and backed him toward the bed.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, and there's too much of you. It's ridiculous."
"You know what's wrong with you?" Jared asked.
"Bad taste?"
"No. You're still wearing pants."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Dude, I totally could have played JAZZ."
Misha pulled away to glare. "You threw the game? I don't believe it."
"You wanted to see me naked so bad, I couldn't deny you."
"Badly."
"Huh?"
"Badly. Not bad. I wanted to see you naked so badly."
Jared beamed. "Good for you, Misha. You know what they say about admitting you have a problem."
"You're right about that," Misha said. "You are a problem."
"Your pants are a problem."
"Back to that?"
"It's the most obvious impediment to me getting my mouth around your cock right now, so-"
Misha drew back to open his fly and started pulling down his pants before Jared could finish the thought.
"Why didn't you say so?"
"You're the one playing coy. I think I've been pretty obvious."
"Your whole existence is obvious." Misha threw his pants to the ground, sent his underwear with them, and plopped down on the edge of the mattress to recline on his elbows with flattering haste.
Jared took in the sight and sucked on his bottom lip. Misha had a pretty cock, which was kind of an odd thought to have, might even have been a first for Jared in terms of cock appreciation, but truth is truth and Jared couldn't deny it.
"Elegant, actually," Jared said. "It's more than respectable size-wise, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the aesthetic quality that really sets it apart."
"You realize you just said that out loud, right?" Misha asked.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"
Misha rolled his eyes toward heaven. "A better question would be: Why is your mouth way up there, talking, when my elegant dick's way down here, waiting to shut you up?"
Jared didn't drop gracefully to his knees. He was a big guy with an old basketball injury, graceful wasn't in the program. But he dipped down and bent forward and the end result was the same, just a couple of short shuffles forward on his knees and he was close enough to give Misha the thing he'd no doubt been fantasizing for weeks.
"I have not been fantasizing," Misha said.
"Sorry, did I say that out loud?"
"Oh my God, will you please just shut up and blow me?"
Jared threw Misha an exaggerated wink and a cheesy grin. "No need to beg."
"I hate you."
The words dragged and Misha stuttered over the last syllable as Jared leaned forward to press his lips to the tip of his cock. Jared pressed his tongue to the slit in a gentle, teasing motion while Misha squirmed and pushed in. Jared backed off. Not time for that yet - Misha needed to know who was running the show.
Jared had waited too long for this to have it any other way. The good professor was all prickly, snarky energy and he gave as good as he got. That's what Jared wanted, what he needed, but what he really craved was what he had now, the taste of Misha on his tongue, his panting little moans above him, Misha's hand on Jared’s head, fingers tangled in his hair.
He sucked in the head of Misha's cock, fucked his tongue harder into the slit, ran one hand up Misha's leg while he reached down to rub himself through his briefs. Jared ran his tongue along the ridge and puffed his breath against it in a tease. God, so good; Misha, on his tongue, in his mouth, mixed with the lingering taste of their kisses, was even better than expected.
Misha squirmed. "More," he said. "Damn it, Jared. Take it."
Jared pulled back and looked at Misha’s cock, shiny with spit and pre-come, tight and hard. Misha raked his fingers through Jared's hair to his nape and squeezed.
"Don't stop," he said. "There's no stopping."
"Not on your life, Professor." Jared dipped his head to lick a line down Misha's shaft to his balls, sucked them in, breathing and humming. So, so good. So warm. He moaned and released his own cock to give it a hard, painful jerk. It wouldn't do to come on the carpet before he got to the best part.
Misha bent forward to double over him, spread his legs wider while he pressed down and stroked his hands down Jared's back. Jared ran his tongue back up the shaft, teased the tip again before pulling it back into his mouth, looked up to Misha's encompassing figure, above him now, surrounding him, inside of him. Misha was bent over so far his head rested on Jared's shoulder for a second before he pulled himself back.
Jared swallowed him down, slow, but not gentle, took him in with the barest scrape of teeth, tongue working, mouth filled with spit, gliding and pulling. Their gazes locked, and Misha was wrecked in the best possible way - mouth slack, eyes big and dark with passion, lust, whatever; erratic breath, flushed skin. Jared let him see the want in his own eyes, just how fucking serious he was about this, how real it was, while he took him all the way down.
It wasn't like Jared deep-throated someone every day, but for the right guy he was happy enough to go for broke. And whatever the truth of the matter was, Misha certainly felt like the right guy. Jared swallowed down his gag reflex. Misha's cock was big and hot in his mouth and Jared swallowed again, fighting the need to pull back and take a full breath for just this side of too long. When he did pull back, Misha bucked up into it, a please, don't go. Jared looked up at him, don’t worry, I've got this, as he pushed Misha's hips back down to the mattress.
No need for words, Misha simply moaned, probably loud enough to be heard down the hall. He'd no doubt catch hell for that later. Jared teased his tongue over the head and went back to work. He took it all again, but pulled back and bobbed his mouth over Misha's cock, working it, fast and shallow while he curled his fingers around its base, ready for Misha to let go, hungry for the taste of him.
"God, Jared," Misha groaned. "Goddamn. I can't. Holy fuck. So good. I can't. I'm gonna. Fuck."
Later, when they were done, Jared was so going to give Misha a world of shit for losing it like that. For now, he wasn't a hundred percent certain he’d be capable of speech even if his mouth wasn’t otherwise engaged.
Jared’s own hard-on was becoming something of a distraction, so when he felt Misha go tight and rigid above him, all shaky breath and guttural noises, he was thrilled. Misha murmured something that sounded like it might be a warning; he twisted his fingers in Jared's hair when he came, and Jared pulled him in deeper to swallow it. The gasping, choking sensation came and went and he decided he loved even that. Jared moaned and breathed around Misha's cock, licked it clean as come and spit ran down his chin.
And when Misha - darling, sarcastic, uptight professor - came, he came loud. Really loud. It was gratifying to say the least. More importantly, the sound made Jared even harder, more desperate for his own release. He pulled off of Misha's softening cock and gazed up at him.
"God, Jared," Misha said, softer this time, raspy. "You're-"
"Pretty awesome, huh?"
An exhaled chuckle, an exasperated eye-roll. "On your knees, mouth filled with my cock so you can't speak? Definitely awesome."
Jared drew himself up and brought his hands to Misha's face to pull him in for an open, filthy kiss. Take it, Jared thought, take the wet, sloppy taste of yourself from my tongue. And Misha did, fucking into Jared's mouth like he couldn't get enough.
"Come on, come on," Misha panted. "Your turn."
There was no part of Jared that didn't want to be somehow pushing into Misha, but he was hard and ready, and there was no time for prep, so he pulled himself up and fell over Misha on the bed, pushing him back slowly as he sucked Misha's tongue into his mouth.
"How do you want it?" Misha asked.
"Just let me-" Jared didn't finish the thought. He blanketed himself over Misha and rolled his hips, pressed his cock against Misha's, against the groove of his hip, grinding and pushing, rocking back and forward again, contorting himself so he wouldn't have to stop with the kissing. The kissing was too good to just stop.
Misha wrapped his legs around Jared and dropped his head back to arch his neck against the mattress, pulling Jared in closer, tighter, to buck up against him.
"That's it," he murmured in Jared's ear. "You can have this. Just let go. Let go for me."
It was almost sweet and a feeling of warmth washed over Jared that wasn't about the flash-hot heat that surged through his body, pushing him to the brink of orgasm. It was something else, something infinitely more promising. When he came, long hot spurts of come across Misha's belly, he was smiling, smiling down at Misha and moaning his name.
Wrung out and satisfied, lazy with it, Jared let himself collapse.
"You're like the world's biggest, sweatiest ragdoll," Misha said.
"You love it."
"Only up to the point where I need oxygen to live."
Jared had to laugh. The man had a point. The release of so much pent-up frustration and the frankly mind-blowing orgasm was enough of a rush that he laughed a little longer and louder than he probably should. Misha wasn't able to join in the hilarity until Jared rolled away and landed on his back next to him.
"Admit it," Jared said. "That was awesome."
"Yes, that was awesome, you buffoon."
"Buffoon's a good word, fifteen points. And if you landed on a triple, or even a double-"
"Shut it, Scrabble savant." But Misha shifted to drape himself across Jared's chest, and it took the sting out of his words.
"One day, Professor Collins, you'll have to come to terms with how much I own the game of Scrabble."
"Not today."
"Why not?"
"Because today, I want to enjoy my phenomenal orgasm and try to come up with a way to sneak out of here without catching a world of shit from everyone in the other room."
"Impossible."
"And I want to take you home with me." The words were followed by the press of lips against Jared's chest. Jared flexed.
"That again?" Misha asked, but it didn't stop him. He swirled his tongue over Jared's nipple, lazy and teasing.
"You love it."
Misha gazed up at him. Poor thing was wrecked - never had a man appeared so debauched and totally slutty. The stuffy professor had come unstuffed. Jared allowed himself a moment to wallow in triumph.
"So, are we going back to my place?" Misha asked.
“Sure," Jared said. "I'm pretty easy, you know."
"One of your few redeeming qualities."
"Along with my hot bod, ability to give life affirming blowjobs, and obvious superiority with the tiles."
Misha pulled up and pressed his lips to Jared’s, watched him close, so close. He grinned and lightly pinched Jared’s belly. Not like there was enough fat there for him to get a decent grip, Jared thought.
"Two out of three ain’t bad."
Word Count: ~5k
Summary: Jared endeavors to give Professor Collins his heart’s desire.
Notes: Written for obstinatrix for the jaredmisha Mishaleckipalooza exchange (huzzah!), from the prompt: Jared and Misha play Scrabble. STRIP SCRABBLE. Hope you enjoy! Many thanks to the mods for the extension. Eternal thanks to my wonderful beta, greybhan311 for the help and the quick turn-around.
In the four months since he'd met Professor Misha Collins at the International Campus-Adjacent Co-Ed Scrabble Rousers' Weekly Bacchanalia and Dinner Club, TM Sebastian Roche, Jared had determined three important facts.
1) The man was too uptight for his own good.
2) He hated to lose, hated it beyond reason, and therefore hated Jared for his superior Scrabble game.
3) The good professor wanted Jared in the worst possible way, but was fairly unlikely to admit it.
All that was about to change. Okay, maybe not that second thing. Misha might never truly come to terms with Jared's mad Scrabble skills. Jared figured he could live with that so long as it didn’t interfere with his plans, which consisted of getting Misha naked and sweaty and…well, that was about it. Whatever came next, they’d have to improvise.
He'd been assured by Sebastian that the professor was a ton of fun, with a quick wit and a filthy sense of humor underneath those pressed slacks and crisp white shirts. The quick wit, Jared could believe. He’d seen it for himself. Filthy? That required further investigation.
Jared hadn't thought much of Misha when they first met. He was cute enough - great lips, gorgeous eyes. And Jared didn't take offense when Misha underestimated his game, challenging every word as if Jared couldn’t possibly be that well-versed in the English language, though it did make that first victory especially sweet. Misha spluttered and bemoaned his loss, and Jared smiled and thought about putting those lips to better use.
So, no, it wasn't lust at first sight, but by the end of their second match Jared was already imagining different ways get a rise, so to speak, out of Professor Collins.
He paused outside the door of Chad's off-campus apartment to take inventory of his wardrobe: jeans, threadbare flannel shirt, flip-flops, underwear (new, white, CK boxer briefs, form-fitting, but not obscene - classy). Jared was generous and impatient, and he’d selected his attire accordingly. It was the group's Third Annual Strip Scrabble Extravaganza and Collins was in for the treat of his life.
"Dude, you're late," Chad said when he opened the door.
Jared sidestepped him to peer into the small apartment. And there he was. Professor Stuffy Pants himself, talking to Sebastian and double-dipping his chips. Most of their regular members skipped out on strip Scrabble night, so it was a small group, as it had been the previous two years before Misha joined the club. Jared was impressed Seb had managed to convince him to show up at all.
As expected, Chad's mission to recruit more women for this year’s Strip Scrabble Extravaganza was not such a success. Kristen was once again the sole representative of the fairer sex. She sat on top of the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, nursing a beer and watching the small group with mild curiosity. Probably the second best player in their Scrabble league, next to Jared of course, Kristen wasn't in much danger of being stripped down to nothing. Even so, she was rocking the layered look hardcore.
Not that Jared spared much thought for her wardrobe. His gaze was pretty much trained on Misha, but he wasn't about to go over there yet. Let Misha throw him sly little I'm-not-looking-at-you glances from a safe distance for now.
He'd suspect Misha of layering as well, but the poor thing always dressed like he was on his way to an interview. Tonight’s outfit included a vest, but even that wasn’t unusual. Chad was explaining the rules of Strip Scrabble to him while Misha looked around nervously.
"Okay," Chad explained. "Here's how it goes. We're splitting up into one-on-one games. Kristen will sit out the first one. At the end of each round, the player with the lowest score for that round takes off an article of clothing."
Chad mimed a disturbingly twitchy striptease while Misha closed his eyes, possibly in prayer for deliverance.
"If a player challenges a word and wins, he, or she," Chad said and pointed to Kristen, "can put an article of clothing back on. Losers are out, winners advance. You get re-dressed for each new match-up. Got it?"
"Listen, I'm not sure-" Misha started.
"Of course you are," Seb interrupted. "It's just a game among friends, right?"
Misha glanced at Jared but his gaze skittered away in a hurry. Jared smiled. Oh, they would be more than friends all right.
"Don't smirk," Kristen said. "It's unbecoming."
"I was smiling."
Kristen side-eyed him and took a long draw off her beer. "What's your big plan here, anyway, genius?" She asked. "Get Misha out of his clothes so you can see him naked up close and personal, along with everybody else in the room?"
"No." Jared grabbed her beer and took a drink. "The idea is for him to get me naked."
"Because you're so hot he won’t be able to resist?"
"You’re only skeptical because you haven't seen me in anything less than jeans and a t-shirt."
"So tonight's my lucky night, too?" She asked, reclaiming her beer.
"The show's free for all."
"But only the professor gets a happy ending?"
"Now you're catching on."
"All right, let's do this," Misha said to the room at large, clearly mustering all his will just to get through it. How the hell had Seb managed to get him here, Jared wondered, not for the first time. Whatever his method, Jared wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was just glad Seb was on his side.
They drew names to determine their opponents: Chad v. Jared, Misha v. Sebastian. Kristen watched from the sidelines and cat-called when appropriate. As usual, Jared beat Chad easily. Misha and Seb were more evenly matched, but Sebastian was so on board the Jared-seducing-Misha train, he practically owned stock in Grand Central Railway. He probably didn't throw the game so Misha could advance to the next round, but it wasn’t out of the question.
However it happened, Sebastian and Chad were happy losers with no desire to re-dress. Kristen made a point of putting on her shades to protect her eyes from the collective glare of their pale torsos. "I've got two words for you boys," she declared. "Tanning bed."
In keeping with the informal tone of the affair, she determined which of the winners to challenge with a spin of the bottle. When it pointed to Misha, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they settled in for their game.
If there was one person in the room besides Jared who could win against Misha a good fifty percent of the time, it was Kristen. She also happened to be the most averse to losing her own clothes and probably the least likely to throw it for Jared's sake. He bore holes in the back of her head with his laser-eyes while she and Misha played.
It was a tense game and Misha struggled mightily, but he won, shirt and pants still securely in place, with ASTRIDE. Kristen was able to preserve her bra, panties, and the second chemise she’d layered on, much to Chad's chagrin. Then finally, blessedly, the real game was on.
"All right," Chad announced. "Just one pairing left, with the championship on the line - Jared versus Misha. Place your bets and let's get this show on the road."
Jared exchanged a fist-bump with Sebastian on his way to the table while Misha donned his socks, shoes, and vest. He’d spent the evening avoiding Jared as much as possible, as if he could stall the inevitable if he refused to acknowledge it. So when they sat across from each other and Misha finally granted Jared his full attention, it felt like a victory.
Jared winked and bumped his foot against Misha's under the table.
"Don't worry, Professor, I'll make this as painless as possible."
"Just play, Padalecki," Misha replied, his voice strained.
"Lighten up," Jared told him. "You're fighting for your underwear, not your life."
"Play," Misha repeated. Jared might have a fetish for that voice.
The Scrabble gods were smiling down upon him, and Jared couldn't bite back a grin when he saw his tiles. He licked his lips and opened the game with PORN.
Sebastian, resplendent in a leopard print thong, slapped Jared on the back. "An auspicious beginning."
Misha narrowed his eyes. There was no bluster, no blushing. He pressed his foot against Jared's and built on the O with COCK.
"Now we have a game," Chad hooted.
"Porn cock," Jared said as he slid back in his chair and spread his legs wide. "That's about right."
Misha's face took on a pained expression. "Don't be disgusting."
Jared licked his lips suggestively. He couldn't help himself. Something about Misha gave his inner horny teenager life. Kristen groaned and headed to the kitchen for more beer.
COCK became COCKY, and Misha earned the shirt off Jared's back when he hit a triple word score with EYE. Jared made sure to undo the buttons slowly. He dropped his gaze and adopted a bashful expression when he pushed the shirt off and dropped it to the floor, revealing his well-moisturized and manscaped chest.
"Shouldn't you remove your shoes first?" Misha asked, his expression tight and his color high.
"Is that a rule?" Jared asked.
"Nope," Chad said.
Kristen returned from the kitchen and looked Jared over in a way Misha probably wanted to but didn't dare.
"Not bad, Padalecki," she said.
"Told ya," he said as he flexed his biceps for her.
Misha made a choked noise and looked away.
"Problem, Professor Collins?" Jared asked. He meant it to sound playful, but it came out as a challenge, almost confrontational. Misha's eyes flashed - maybe in irritation, but Jared thought it might be more like challenge accepted.
Misha lost his shoes on EYELET. Jared couldn't think of anything crass or suggestive to say about that. When he took some time to decide between TITS and LITHE, Misha ran a socked foot up Jared's leg. Jared pursed his lips to hide a surprised grin. Misha’s expression was neutral.
LITHE would give him more points. Jared played TITS and lost his flip-flops when Misha played ASS.
Jared shook his head and played LASS for a triple word score. Misha lost his socks on that one and moved his bare toes up Jared's ankle to slide them under the cuff of his jeans. Jared adjusted himself and tried to think of a faster, better way to lose this fucking game.
By the time they reset and Misha lost his vest, his tie, his crisp button-up shirt, and his belt in quick succession, Jared could feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck, the warmth that stole over his own face. Chad and Kristen got bored and started a raucous game of beer pong while Sebastian provided his own brand of color commentary between lengthy breaks to post half-naked pictures of himself on Twitter.
It was Misha's turn and he looked at the board for a good thirty seconds before gazing up at Jared. "What's going on here?" He asked.
"Scrabble?"
"No, really."
There was an undeniable challenge in his tone and in his gaze and Jared answered in kind. He leaned forward to look Misha in the eye when he spoke, low and soft, just between them. "I want to get you naked. You can pretend you didn’t know that already, I don’t care. But if I have to go first, in front of a room full of people," Jared told him. "Then that's what I'll do."
Misha nodded. "Fair enough."
He looked down at his tiles and played FEZ, a move that at long last cost Jared his pants.
When Jared slipped out of his jeans, Misha didn't bother to look away. Jared ran his thumbs under the band of his underwear like he was testing the elastic before sitting back down on the hard metal of the foldout chair.
He had a few different choices on the board, but it was time to get this show on the road. And that was how Misha won on a technicality. JIZZ, it turned out, was not a real word, at least not as far as the good people at Scrabble are concerned.
Jared was well aware of that before he played it, of course. So, Misha could attribute his win to FEZ, Jared did not play JAZZ as he could have, and Professor Collins got to put his belt back on while staring intently at his heart’s desire: one shirtless, pantsless Jared Padalecki. Jared flexed and swallowed a laugh when Misha pushed himself up from the table with a huff. He was so damn cute, with his snark and his eyes and his stuffed up smarter-than-thou attitude.
Jared headed to the kitchen for a beer and a much-deserved high-five from Sebastian. When he returned to the living room, Misha was nowhere to be found. Jared looked around with a sense of alarm. No way did he just throw a game of Scrabble to have Misha disappear the minute it ended.
"Don't worry," Kristen said from the spot she'd reclaimed on the bar. "He didn't leave."
"Where is he?"
"I love a man with a one-track mind," Sebastian said.
Kristen nodded toward the hallway. "He's powdering his nose."
Jared set down his drink and back-walked away from the group and toward the small bathroom at the end of the hall. "Wish me luck."
"Luck," Sebastian said.
Chad groaned. "Dude! Don't do it on my bed."
"Nobody likes a cock-blocker," Kristen told him."You can change the sheets after they leave."
"Let me know if you need anything, will you?" Sebastian called. "Like a third."
Jared beamed. "You'll be the first person I ask, Seb."
The lock on Chad’s bathroom door had been broken for as long as Jared could remember and if that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was. He turned the knob and slipped into the room without knocking, like some kind of awesome cat burglar, or maybe a vampire stealing into the bedroom of a virtuous heroine.
Misha was leaning over the sink, still shirtless, hands planted on the countertop. He seemed to be having an intense conversation with his reflection in the mirror. Whatever he was saying (Jared didn't catch much, but it may have involved the phrase "so not worth it for that cocky, infuriating, asshole") trailed off when he realized Jared was in the room.
"Excuse me?"
"No excuse necessary, man," Jared assured him.
"I mean, excuse you, the bathroom is taken. Leave."
"Nah."
"Nah?"
"You don't really want me to leave."
"Leave means leave," Misha growled.
He was precious, like a tiger cub trying to be fierce but only managing adorable.
"Stay means stay," Jared replied. He stepped behind Misha to settle his hands on his waist, letting their heat soak into Misha's pale skin. He'd been told his hands were a real turn-on, all big and warm.
"I didn't say stay." Misha spoke through a clenched jaw, his voice whisper-soft; easier to say leave than to mean it.
This was ridiculous. Clearly, Misha wanted it, but Jared figured he should get the all-in before going all in. So he leaned down and leaned close, exhaled a breath against Misha's neck.
"If you really want to go," he said, "just walk out the door. No harm, no foul."
"I was here first," Misha pointed out. "You go."
The problem with Misha was that he was stubborn. The tent in his pants told Jared he wanted to stay, but he wasn't ready to admit it. Jared dipped his knees and rubbed his cheek against Misha's neck, inhaled the citrusy-cologne scent of him, let his lips skim the spot behind Misha's ear, but he didn't follow-through, unwilling to do more until Misha gave the green light.
Misha tensed, and pulled in closer to the counter's edge to put whatever small distance he could between them.
"Stop." Misha's voice, all strained and pleading, was hot as fuck, but Jared could take no for an answer. He may be a bit forward by some standards, but his Daddy raised him right.
When he pulled himself to his full height and stepped back, said, "All right, if you insist," Misha made a sudden turn, got right up in his face and sort of - grunted.
"Now, you decide to back off?" Misha asked. "Now? Idiot."
He pulled Jared down, pulled him in, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other curling around his neck, and kissed him hard. Close-mouthed and rough, no room to maneuver; Jared was roped in tight, with no way to open to it, lick in hot and wet like he wanted. His cock saluted and he wrapped his arms around Misha for a closer embrace. Just first base and they were already skin to skin. Strip Scrabble was the best thing ever.
As far as hard, dry, thin-lipped kisses went, this was in his top five. Misha made this little noise, a frustrated, jagged moan from the back of his throat, and ran one hand down Jared's back to his ass. Okay, top two.
Misha pulled away, pressed another kiss to his lips, fast and easy, didn't step back or walk away. Pleased by the turn in events, Jared moved in closer and rested his hands on the counter, arms on either side of Misha. He leaned in for more, but Misha placed a hand to his chest, his fingers curling in just a little, to hold him back. Jared flexed his pecs to give him a thrill.
"Not here," Misha said.
Jared took in their surroundings - smallish bathroom, pink tile, shower curtains with a goldfish pattern, toothbrushes on the counter top.
"What's wrong with here?" He asked.
Misha cocked his head, gave him that very specific you're a specimen in a jar look.
"It's a bathroom."
"It's clean."
Of course, Jared intended to take this show to the bedroom, but it was amusing to let Misha believe that he planned to bend him over the sink or, God forbid, the toilet, and go at it like some kind of animal. The man had the strangest ideas.
"Bedroom," Misha said.
Jared played magnanimous. "If you insist."
He dropped his hand to Misha's ass and pulled him in while he walked him toward the master bedroom. Misha left his hand where it was on Jared's chest and brought his other arm up around his neck as they shuffle-walked to the door.
Misha surged up and kissed him again, slow and soft this time; wetter, better. It didn't help with the walking process, but they made it into the bedroom, almost without incident.
Jared bumped his shoulder against the door jamb as they waltzed through. "Ouch."
"You're the least graceful human being I think I've ever met," Misha breathed against his mouth.
Jared took the opportunity to slip him some tongue and backed him toward the bed.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, and there's too much of you. It's ridiculous."
"You know what's wrong with you?" Jared asked.
"Bad taste?"
"No. You're still wearing pants."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Dude, I totally could have played JAZZ."
Misha pulled away to glare. "You threw the game? I don't believe it."
"You wanted to see me naked so bad, I couldn't deny you."
"Badly."
"Huh?"
"Badly. Not bad. I wanted to see you naked so badly."
Jared beamed. "Good for you, Misha. You know what they say about admitting you have a problem."
"You're right about that," Misha said. "You are a problem."
"Your pants are a problem."
"Back to that?"
"It's the most obvious impediment to me getting my mouth around your cock right now, so-"
Misha drew back to open his fly and started pulling down his pants before Jared could finish the thought.
"Why didn't you say so?"
"You're the one playing coy. I think I've been pretty obvious."
"Your whole existence is obvious." Misha threw his pants to the ground, sent his underwear with them, and plopped down on the edge of the mattress to recline on his elbows with flattering haste.
Jared took in the sight and sucked on his bottom lip. Misha had a pretty cock, which was kind of an odd thought to have, might even have been a first for Jared in terms of cock appreciation, but truth is truth and Jared couldn't deny it.
"Elegant, actually," Jared said. "It's more than respectable size-wise, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the aesthetic quality that really sets it apart."
"You realize you just said that out loud, right?" Misha asked.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"
Misha rolled his eyes toward heaven. "A better question would be: Why is your mouth way up there, talking, when my elegant dick's way down here, waiting to shut you up?"
Jared didn't drop gracefully to his knees. He was a big guy with an old basketball injury, graceful wasn't in the program. But he dipped down and bent forward and the end result was the same, just a couple of short shuffles forward on his knees and he was close enough to give Misha the thing he'd no doubt been fantasizing for weeks.
"I have not been fantasizing," Misha said.
"Sorry, did I say that out loud?"
"Oh my God, will you please just shut up and blow me?"
Jared threw Misha an exaggerated wink and a cheesy grin. "No need to beg."
"I hate you."
The words dragged and Misha stuttered over the last syllable as Jared leaned forward to press his lips to the tip of his cock. Jared pressed his tongue to the slit in a gentle, teasing motion while Misha squirmed and pushed in. Jared backed off. Not time for that yet - Misha needed to know who was running the show.
Jared had waited too long for this to have it any other way. The good professor was all prickly, snarky energy and he gave as good as he got. That's what Jared wanted, what he needed, but what he really craved was what he had now, the taste of Misha on his tongue, his panting little moans above him, Misha's hand on Jared’s head, fingers tangled in his hair.
He sucked in the head of Misha's cock, fucked his tongue harder into the slit, ran one hand up Misha's leg while he reached down to rub himself through his briefs. Jared ran his tongue along the ridge and puffed his breath against it in a tease. God, so good; Misha, on his tongue, in his mouth, mixed with the lingering taste of their kisses, was even better than expected.
Misha squirmed. "More," he said. "Damn it, Jared. Take it."
Jared pulled back and looked at Misha’s cock, shiny with spit and pre-come, tight and hard. Misha raked his fingers through Jared's hair to his nape and squeezed.
"Don't stop," he said. "There's no stopping."
"Not on your life, Professor." Jared dipped his head to lick a line down Misha's shaft to his balls, sucked them in, breathing and humming. So, so good. So warm. He moaned and released his own cock to give it a hard, painful jerk. It wouldn't do to come on the carpet before he got to the best part.
Misha bent forward to double over him, spread his legs wider while he pressed down and stroked his hands down Jared's back. Jared ran his tongue back up the shaft, teased the tip again before pulling it back into his mouth, looked up to Misha's encompassing figure, above him now, surrounding him, inside of him. Misha was bent over so far his head rested on Jared's shoulder for a second before he pulled himself back.
Jared swallowed him down, slow, but not gentle, took him in with the barest scrape of teeth, tongue working, mouth filled with spit, gliding and pulling. Their gazes locked, and Misha was wrecked in the best possible way - mouth slack, eyes big and dark with passion, lust, whatever; erratic breath, flushed skin. Jared let him see the want in his own eyes, just how fucking serious he was about this, how real it was, while he took him all the way down.
It wasn't like Jared deep-throated someone every day, but for the right guy he was happy enough to go for broke. And whatever the truth of the matter was, Misha certainly felt like the right guy. Jared swallowed down his gag reflex. Misha's cock was big and hot in his mouth and Jared swallowed again, fighting the need to pull back and take a full breath for just this side of too long. When he did pull back, Misha bucked up into it, a please, don't go. Jared looked up at him, don’t worry, I've got this, as he pushed Misha's hips back down to the mattress.
No need for words, Misha simply moaned, probably loud enough to be heard down the hall. He'd no doubt catch hell for that later. Jared teased his tongue over the head and went back to work. He took it all again, but pulled back and bobbed his mouth over Misha's cock, working it, fast and shallow while he curled his fingers around its base, ready for Misha to let go, hungry for the taste of him.
"God, Jared," Misha groaned. "Goddamn. I can't. Holy fuck. So good. I can't. I'm gonna. Fuck."
Later, when they were done, Jared was so going to give Misha a world of shit for losing it like that. For now, he wasn't a hundred percent certain he’d be capable of speech even if his mouth wasn’t otherwise engaged.
Jared’s own hard-on was becoming something of a distraction, so when he felt Misha go tight and rigid above him, all shaky breath and guttural noises, he was thrilled. Misha murmured something that sounded like it might be a warning; he twisted his fingers in Jared's hair when he came, and Jared pulled him in deeper to swallow it. The gasping, choking sensation came and went and he decided he loved even that. Jared moaned and breathed around Misha's cock, licked it clean as come and spit ran down his chin.
And when Misha - darling, sarcastic, uptight professor - came, he came loud. Really loud. It was gratifying to say the least. More importantly, the sound made Jared even harder, more desperate for his own release. He pulled off of Misha's softening cock and gazed up at him.
"God, Jared," Misha said, softer this time, raspy. "You're-"
"Pretty awesome, huh?"
An exhaled chuckle, an exasperated eye-roll. "On your knees, mouth filled with my cock so you can't speak? Definitely awesome."
Jared drew himself up and brought his hands to Misha's face to pull him in for an open, filthy kiss. Take it, Jared thought, take the wet, sloppy taste of yourself from my tongue. And Misha did, fucking into Jared's mouth like he couldn't get enough.
"Come on, come on," Misha panted. "Your turn."
There was no part of Jared that didn't want to be somehow pushing into Misha, but he was hard and ready, and there was no time for prep, so he pulled himself up and fell over Misha on the bed, pushing him back slowly as he sucked Misha's tongue into his mouth.
"How do you want it?" Misha asked.
"Just let me-" Jared didn't finish the thought. He blanketed himself over Misha and rolled his hips, pressed his cock against Misha's, against the groove of his hip, grinding and pushing, rocking back and forward again, contorting himself so he wouldn't have to stop with the kissing. The kissing was too good to just stop.
Misha wrapped his legs around Jared and dropped his head back to arch his neck against the mattress, pulling Jared in closer, tighter, to buck up against him.
"That's it," he murmured in Jared's ear. "You can have this. Just let go. Let go for me."
It was almost sweet and a feeling of warmth washed over Jared that wasn't about the flash-hot heat that surged through his body, pushing him to the brink of orgasm. It was something else, something infinitely more promising. When he came, long hot spurts of come across Misha's belly, he was smiling, smiling down at Misha and moaning his name.
Wrung out and satisfied, lazy with it, Jared let himself collapse.
"You're like the world's biggest, sweatiest ragdoll," Misha said.
"You love it."
"Only up to the point where I need oxygen to live."
Jared had to laugh. The man had a point. The release of so much pent-up frustration and the frankly mind-blowing orgasm was enough of a rush that he laughed a little longer and louder than he probably should. Misha wasn't able to join in the hilarity until Jared rolled away and landed on his back next to him.
"Admit it," Jared said. "That was awesome."
"Yes, that was awesome, you buffoon."
"Buffoon's a good word, fifteen points. And if you landed on a triple, or even a double-"
"Shut it, Scrabble savant." But Misha shifted to drape himself across Jared's chest, and it took the sting out of his words.
"One day, Professor Collins, you'll have to come to terms with how much I own the game of Scrabble."
"Not today."
"Why not?"
"Because today, I want to enjoy my phenomenal orgasm and try to come up with a way to sneak out of here without catching a world of shit from everyone in the other room."
"Impossible."
"And I want to take you home with me." The words were followed by the press of lips against Jared's chest. Jared flexed.
"That again?" Misha asked, but it didn't stop him. He swirled his tongue over Jared's nipple, lazy and teasing.
"You love it."
Misha gazed up at him. Poor thing was wrecked - never had a man appeared so debauched and totally slutty. The stuffy professor had come unstuffed. Jared allowed himself a moment to wallow in triumph.
"So, are we going back to my place?" Misha asked.
“Sure," Jared said. "I'm pretty easy, you know."
"One of your few redeeming qualities."
"Along with my hot bod, ability to give life affirming blowjobs, and obvious superiority with the tiles."
Misha pulled up and pressed his lips to Jared’s, watched him close, so close. He grinned and lightly pinched Jared’s belly. Not like there was enough fat there for him to get a decent grip, Jared thought.
"Two out of three ain’t bad."